Healing
by soaper410
Summary: A Secret Santa Challenge
1. Chapter 1

_This story a response to the Secret Santa challenge. This is a gift to Shiny Jewel. A huge thank you__ MoonlightGardenias for being the beta for this story. This will be a 2 part story. I'm acting going to post the prompt at the bottom of the page so as to not spoil a few things. Thanks as always to KarenES for organizing this challenge!_

_**For some reason, when I uploaded this story a few minutes ago, my physical breaks in the story weren't showing up as lines**  
_

**Healing**

Rayna pulled the sheets back from the bed and tiptoed across the carpeted floor of the master suite in the Penthouse. She'd been trying to get to sleep for over an hour and her mind was still racing, so she was no closer to sleep now than she was when she first laid down. Luke continued to snore lightly as she rummaged through her bags until she found the pack of cigarettes and her phone.

Rayna had never really been much of a smoker, but she did like the occasional drag when she drank liquor. Lately, she'd been smoking more and more. Her mind was a jumbled mess of worry, hurt, and stress. She'd put so much money and pride into ensuring her label didn't fail. Her entire career and future, as well as her family's future, was on the line. Smoking seemed to clear her wandering mind and help her focus.

Rayna quickly made her way down the hall, catching sight of herself in the hallway mirror. The deep purple circles under her eyes were visible even in the dark. She grabbed a blanket from behind the couch and threw it over her arms. She sighed and made her way to the balcony, closing the door behind her.

Rayna looked over the Phoenix skyline, pleasantly surprised by how warm the night air was. She lit her cigarette and reclined back in the chair, closing her eyes as she exhaled a puff of smoke, hoping she'd relax enough to go to sleep soon.

Rayna had several major decisions she needed to make. First, Highway 65 needed a home. Tandy had given half a dozen options of downtown buildings to rent. She still hadn't made a decision about which other artists she wanted to sign to the label. Most pressing was her own albums' release. There were so many decisions about marketing and PR to make. She'd always had a say in which songs would be released as singles, which interviews she'd give, and the overall look and feel of the PR campaign. But now all the decisions were solely hers. It was exhilarating but also terrifying.

But it wasn't just the label that had kept Rayna from sleep. Peggy's death had shaken her. Truth was, it was less Peggy dying and more closely connected to how close Rayna had come to dying yet again. For the second time in a few months, she'd nearly left her children motherless.

It had been a month since the shooting and every loud noise still made her jump. She didn't drive by herself anywhere at night. She often caught herself with a sick feeling in her stomach. It was even worse than the weeks following the wreck. She just couldn't get that funeral home out of her mind.

Teddy hadn't been in a good state in the days following Peggy's death; he'd been non-functioning while planning the funeral. So Rayna had made most of the decisions for the service and burial. There was still something painfully ironic about picking out a casket for your ex-husband's mistress. The three songs played were the songs she would have picked out for her own funeral and the flowers she chose were flowers that Rayna herself liked. Her own daughters and Teddy sat on the front row, crying over the oak coffin laid before them. The whole service felt like an out of body experience. It was like a nightmare that she couldn't quite get out of her head.

Peggy's death had cemented how many things Rayna had left undone in her own life. Her mind flashed to Deacon, his hand outstretched as he accepted the ring she'd held onto for a decade and a half. She exhaled the smoke and licked her lips, enjoying the bitter aftertaste before bringing the cigarette back to her lips again. Since then, they'd kept their distance. In some ways, keeping Deacon at bay was easy. For Rayna, it was easy to lie to herself about her feelings for Deacon when he wasn't around. She was used to it. For fourteen years, she'd lied to herself. God, she was good at lying to herself.

More than once during those fourteen years, Rayna had convinced herself that all she had with Deacon was a deep friendship and shared memories, but then Deacon would leave an after party with some twenty-something blonde and the jealously would damn near choke her. Or he'd throw her that smile on stage that would send her heart racing. It was always like that. For weeks and sometimes months, she'd lied to herself. Then he'd do something and her feelings would drown any notion that she wasn't still completely in love with this man.

Right now, she wasn't even sure where to begin with Deacon. Professionally, he was striking out on his own. She was focused on her label. He was still dating Megan and she was…doing something with Luke. He hadn't forgiven her for the lies. She hadn't forgiven him for drinking again. But then, she'd watch Deacon watch their daughter and everything else would just melt away.

Still, Rayna knew that something had shifted between them. He was now a guy who went to horse races. She was now a girl who testified on behalf of Lamar Wyatt.

She felt her eyes burn from the smoke of her cigarette as she thought about her father. He was still in that prison, without bail. Rayna could almost bet her father was as sleepless as she was. That was another thing she needed to repair; forty-two years of hurt, misunderstandings, and stubbornness, and it was going to take more than a few nice gestures to fix.

Rayna lost herself in her cigarette for a moment, enjoying the mundane pleasure of sucking in and puffing out. She rolled her neck around, stretching out the tight muscles. Her eyes felt heavier and she took another puff.

It was then she noticed her phone lit up with Teddy's name. Concerned, Rayna immediately slid her finger across the face of the phone. It was four am in Nashville, far past time for any normal situation. Breathless, Rayna asked what was wrong.

In a calm voice, Teddy assured Rayna everyone was fine, "but I'm pretty sure Maddie has chicken pox."

Rayna's eyes roamed into the night sky, her mind racing in several different directions. Daphne had gotten the chicken pox vaccine; but, when Maddie was little, the vaccine was still a fairly new thing. Rayna flashed back to the summer Tandy gave her the chicken pox. All she remembered was how gross the oatmeal bath felt and how miserable it was.

Rayna put down her cigarette and asked about Maddie's symptoms.

"Well the red bumps that she won't keep scratching was the first clue. Also the fact that Talia had it last week was a pretty good indicator."

Rayna smiled despite how terrible the situation was. Her daughter was two time zones away, sick and miserable, and her newly widowed ex-husband was responsible for her care. Rayna listened as Teddy recounted how Maddie had woken him up when she couldn't find anything to help her itching. Her temperature was a little over 101 and he'd found some calamine lotion in the medicine cabinet.

Rayna recounted the year that she and Tandy spent their Easter Vacation with the pox. Teddy shared that he'd gotten the damn virus from his 4th grade girlfriend, April. The two shared home remedies for a while and Teddy goggled several other at home cures. Teddy vowed to call the doctor first thing in the morning and would text with an update as soon as he knew anything. Rayna thanked Teddy for everything and asked him to, "Tell Maddie that I love her."

Her ex quickly assured her that he'd had the childhood disease himself and would be able to take a few days off to take care of their daughter.

Rayna bit her lip, remembering the old saying that chicken pox was much worse for adults than they were for children. Maddie wasn't an adult yet but she knew it would still be more severe than it would be for little kids.

Part of Rayna wanted to jump on the first plane back to Nashville. But she knew that it was important for her to stay on the tour right now. Scarlett was Highway 65's only artist and her success was tied to the success of the label.

All of a sudden, Rayna felt an overwhelming chill in the air. Taking one last drag, Rayna put the cigarette out and headed back in the hotel suite.

As she crawled back into bed, lyrics began popping into her head. She found a pen and paper and scribbled down random thoughts. Within a few moments, she had a song about un-finished business, an unfulfilled life, regrets and do-overs. Most of the phrases didn't rhyme or make sense without context but Rayna knew she had something.

Exhaustion seemed to overtake Rayna's body as she quickly reclined against the pillows on her half of the bed. Right before she drifted to sleep, she grabbed her phone and sent a quick text message to Deacon letting him know that Maddie was sick and Teddy was taking her to the doctor in the morning.

Her phone lit up within a few seconds with a quick text back.

"Thanks. Get some sleep."

**LATER THAT DAY**

Rayna clapped loudly as Scarlett finished her fifth song. The crowd was awesome tonight and Scarlett's stage presence was improving with every performance. Rayna couldn't help but smile. Despite her lack of sleep, it had been a very good day. Tandy had signed a lease to a small brick building two blocks off of Music Row. There was a consensus regarding which songs would be her first and second singles. Her first single would hit i-Tunes in a month, the CD would be released three weeks later. She would stay with Scarlett for two more days, then fly to LA. She was getting a cover-story from PEOPLE and was doing several photo shoots and interviews with national magazines. Things were finally moving in the right direction.

Suddenly Rayna felt Deacon's presence. A second later, she heard his voice and spun around to face him. Perhaps it was twenty five years of familiarizing herself with the scent of his cologne mixed with the soap he always used. Perhaps it was some deep, unexplainable connection between the two of them that caused her to know Deacon was there. Maybe it was that Maddie told Rayna that Deacon would be at the concert tonight and Rayna knew Deacon couldn't stay away from her.

Rayna grinned and looked towards Deacon. He looked delicious, dressed in his black button down shirt and blue jeans but his eyes held a worried expression. Rayna noticed something odd about the way Deacon was running his hand down the back of his neck.

"How's Maddie?" he asked quickly. He'd already checked up on Maddie this afternoon. There was nothing to update beside, "Still contagious and napping," but that had been nearly five hours ago.

Rayna inwardly felt her heart patter against her chest. "Fever is down a little bit but she's been itching like crazy." Rayna raised an eyebrow as Deacon pulled on his shirt sleeve.

Deacon scrunched his eyebrow and asked what exactly the doctor's diagnosis had been.

Rayna smiled, realizing she never actually told Deacon what Maddie had. The quick texts had discussed temperatures and how Maddie felt. Before she could answer her question, Rayna's eyes widened as Deacon's left hand quickly moved back and forth over his right arm. It was only then she noticed a slight bump on Deacon's neck. Her mind searched for any story or humorous tale about Deacon having the chicken pox. When none came, Rayna tilted her head to the side. "I think you are getting ready to experience something new about parenthood." She reached out and pulled his collar down slightly. Her thought was confirmed by a small red dot on Deacon's shoulder, then a cluster of red bumps slightly lower.

Deacon's fingers began moving back and forth over his chest, bunching the material of his shirt. He looked down at his feet then back up at Rayna, questioning why she hadn't finished her thought.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure that Maddie gave you the chicken pox."

**2 HOURS LATER**

Rayna groaned as she walked into Walmart. It was after 1 am and every other store was closed. The tour buses had pulled out of the arena thirty minutes ago, headed to San Diego for the next show.

She could feel several sets of eyes on her and knew the guy in the sweatpants was taking pictures of her with his cellphone. Rayna had no doubt that the pictures of her would be out on a dozen media sites by morning.

Rayna quickly spun her cart towards the pharmacy, then the home goods section, and lastly the grocery store department. A hundred dollars and forty minutes later, Rayna got back into her rental car.

After everyone realized that Deacon had contracted the chicken pox, there was a quick discussion on what to do next. Deacon wanted to fly back to Nashville; but, it wasn't practical. He was already covered in red splotches and his hands kept rubbing his arms. There would be no way an airline would let him fly. Between the long bus ride and the contagious nature of the disease, traveling on with the tour wasn't an option either. Scarlett volunteered to stay behind to take care of Deacon. Nobody thought that was a good idea. Deacon had been stubborn at first, insisting he could take care of himself. But eventually he caved and let Rayna stay behind.

As Rayna's car pulled up to the valet, she let out a breath of dread and anticipation. It had been months since she and Deacon had been alone together for more than a ten minute conversation. She wasn't sure how the next 48 would go. Deacon was a terrible patient and he hated being caged in anywhere. Still, Rayna felt a little excited at the prospect of spending the next few days alone with Deacon. As she grabbed the bags out of the backseat, she gulped. This was either going to go very well or be one huge disaster.

**_The Prompt from Shiny Jewel is:_ _When Rayna or Deacon (the author can choose) gets sick on tour, the other takes care of them, going out and bringing back a bag full of things they think will make the ailing one feel better._


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the second part of the story. Huge thank you to MoonlightGardenias for being my beta on this. She did marvelous and any mistakes I made after her changes are my fault! Despite the length, a virus on her computer, etc., she still managed to find time to do this! Thanks again to KarenES for organizing and for Shiny Jewel for the prompt in the first place. Not 100% sure I was able to accomplish what I was hoping for but nevertheless, here goes.

Also, not really sure why but my page breaks, space breaks, etc. are not showing up when I upload these chapters. So forgive me for the crude breaks but it just won't work otherwise.

**PART II**

Deacon tried to discreetly scratch his legs as he and Bucky stood at the main desk of the same hotel they'd stayed at the night before. He only half paid attention as the clerk and Bucky talked about room keys and room service. Two hours ago, he'd figured some bug had gotten ahold of his arm, and now he had the damn chicken pox. As he processed Rayna's diagnosis, the decision had been made for him. She would stay behind and take care of him while everyone else would head on to San Diego.

The clerk handed Bucky an envelope with keys and smiled brightly. "Ms. Jaymes must have really enjoyed her stay! Two nights in a row at our Penthouse."

Sure, Deacon knew Ray had stayed in the hotel the night before. Everyone from the tour had stayed there. Deacon himself had stayed in Room 872. Bucky stayed one floor up, as did Scarlett. Deacon just assumed that Rayna's room had been near theirs. Luke had the Penthouse last night. Luke would never stay in a hotel without having the best room.

Sure he'd heard the rumors about Rayna and Luke but had brushed them aside. Scarlett hadn't mentioned anything, neither had the press. Besides, Luke Wheeler had always been far too commercial for Rayna. Even when they were all teenagers playing the local bar circuit, Luke was always focused on the money. Luke sold his tunes to any company that wanted to use it for a jingle. He did commercials in Europe and had his own line of cowboy boots. Rayna knew that; hell, she had made fun of Luke countless times.

Still the only way Rayna was in the Penthouse last night was if she was with Luke. Deacon's thoughts were confirmed when Bucky didn't make eye contact with him as he handed Deacon the key. The elevator ride up to the penthouse was long and lonely. Deacon pushed aside the memory of another elevator ride and leaned against the wall. The friction felt good.

Deacon walked into the penthouse, rolling his eyes at the whole entrance way. There was pink marble everywhere: columns, the living room fireplace, and the entrance way floor. There were huge carpets and all the furniture was five times larger than any normal person's stuff. It was gaudy as shit.

Deacon shivered and looked around for the thermostat. Finding it, Deacon pushed the electronic button from 71 to 78. Feeling tired, he laid down on the couch, shivering as he readjusted to get more comfortable. Deacon pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Megan, letting her know he wasn't feeling well and would be staying in Arizona. Deacon figured he would call in the morning and tell Megan everything. Okay, not everything. She didn't need to know Rayna was staying behind to play nurse. Megan wasn't the jealous type but still, even this may be a little too much for her to be understanding about.

He really did have a good thing going with Megan. She was smart and beautiful. He felt comfortable talking about his sobriety with her. Plus, it didn't bring back any bad memories for her. Megan understand how important music was to him because she was just as fulfilled by her law practice. She was stable, secure in who she was, and independent. She didn't get jealous of Rayna and supported his relationship with Maddie. It was easily the most mature relationship he'd ever had.

In some ways, Deacon was sure Megan gave to him what Teddy had given to Rayna. Still, there was always that thing that existed between he and Rayna. That thing that caused him to drop everything to see if Rayna had really injured her vocal chords, that made him want to run after her when she picked up Maddie from his house.

Deacon rubbed his back against the couch and twirled the remote control in his hands. Bucky had driven him straight over to the hotel, checked Deacon in, and headed back to the arena. The plan was pretty simple: Rayna was going to take care of him and everyone else was going to travel on to the next city. He groaned as his skin flared hot and scratched his stomach to ease the burn.

Sometime later, Deacon jerked awake, hearing the loud click of the door slam shut. His eyes opened slightly, seeing Rayna walk through the door with plastic bags in both hands. He pushed himself off of the couch and followed her towards the kitchen.

His steps were slow as he awoke. By the time he got in the kitchen, Rayna had already unpacked the first bag.

Deacon came over, curious as to what she'd bought. There were a couple of different creams and lotions. He opened up the first one and brought it up to his nose. He jerked back his head. "That smells terrible," he said as he closed the cap. He took out the next bottle and sniffed it several times. That one didn't smell like anything. There were those blue gel icepacks and a cheap plastic thermometer, a small notebook with the gel pens he liked, and a pack of Big Red gum. There was also a small heating pad and a 3 liter bottle of ginger ale.

Without looking up, Rayna ordered Deacon to take two tablespoons of whatever was in the white bottle.

Deacon fumbled through the plastic bag, moving several bottles before he spotted the white one. He picked it up, read the back label, and then put it back down. "No," he said.

Rayna turned around. Deacon had his jaw clinched and the dark pupils of his eyes were big. Rayna groaned out loud both at the situation and at how stubborn he could be. Ten minutes in the hotel and she and Deacon were already gearing up for a full blown argument. He was burning up, his arms and face warm to the touch, and still he was shivering, but he refused to take a fever reducer.

"It's Children's Tylenol," she fussed.

"No." Deacon said sternly.

"Come on Deacon, it's grape flavored. In a liquid form." Rayna huffed, knowing she was losing the battle. They both knew why he was being stubborn. In Deacon's mind, medicine equaled pills which equaled a slippery slope to losing his sobriety.

Once he clinched his jaw, Rayna knew the argument was effectively over with. Deacon saw the surrender in her eyes and breathed out deeply. He hated arguing with Rayna. He never understood that whole 'fight to make up' idea. Sure, sex between them was always intense when they were making up after a fight. But he hated being out of sync with her in the first place. Seeing Rayna cry because of something he said or did was downright painful. It was supposed to be them against the world, not them against each other.

Rayna asked how they were going to get his fever down.

"I'm fine," Deacon said with a shrug before rubbing his arm with his hand.

Rayna left the kitchen momentarily, returning with several washcloths. She turned on the sink, let cold water soak them all before ordering Deacon to sit down. She placed a cold washcloth on the inside of each wrist and then another on the back of his neck.

"Damn Ray, those rags are really cold."

"We've got to get your fever down and until the gel packs freeze, these will have to do."

Deacon sat still for a few moments, as Rayna rummaged through the rest of the shopping bags. Occasionally Rayna would look up and tell Deacon to stop scratching, each time sounding more annoyed than the last.

"Quit scratching!" Rayna squealed. She'd already warned him at least a dozen times.

"It itches," Deacon groaned back. His whole body throbbed and he just needed relief.

"You are going to give yourself scars and make it worse," Rayna warned.

Deacon looked down to the ground shyly and shivered. He knew he was being whiny but damn, it itched. Deacon wasn't sure how it could get much worse. He felt really hot, really cold, and his skinned burned everywhere.

Rayna wet her lips with her tongue. It gave her a minute to collect her thoughts. She walked the few steps separating them, letting her fingertips dance over Deacon's forehead and along his neck. Her fingertips left white marks on his red skin. He was burning up but he had goose bumps. Rayna inspected the blotches on his arms as she pushed up his sleeves. He could feel her breath on his chest, glad his button up shirt was putting distance between her lips and his body.

Deacon looked ahead, determined not to look down at Rayna or lean into her touch. It was hard to fight instincts and for over half his life, his instinct had been to get as close to her as possible.

Rayna ordered him strip. Her order was calm and almost motherly. Deacon watched her for a minute as she started looking through the different creams.

"We've got to put lotion on your bumps so you quit scratching. We also have to get your fever down."

Deacon's eyes narrowed as he watched her. He should be anywhere but here, falling into the same patterns he always did with her. He should be calling Megan and asking advice on how to treat the chicken pox. He could look what to do on his phone or go to some Urgent Care place.

Rayna was screwing Luke Wheeler and finishing her album with Liam. She was studying market research in her dressing room. Their relationship was now marked in short conversations about Scarlett and Maddie. She no longer called him when she was restless or excited. They no longer played their little game at Sound Check, the one where she'd stay well past her rehearsal time and he'd get to Juliette's practice an hour early. There were no afternoon meetings in the park, no long walks where they preferred quiet company to long conversations.

She'd almost killed him with the lies, he'd almost killed her in the wreck. But, here they were. Together in a hotel room. She was acting like they were fine.

It was suddenly far too overwhelming to process. As Rayna pulled open a cabinet, Deacon grabbed the lotion and walked out of the kitchen. He mumbled that he'd do it himself before she could turn around to object.

Deacon stumbled through the living room until he found the guest bedroom that he'd already placed his bag in. He was careful not to slam the door, just close it quickly behind him. He stripped down to his boxers and started applying calamine lotion across his chest and down his arms. He did one leg and then the other. He couldn't reach the red spots on his back but he could rub it against the bed post and that helped make it feel better.

He reached in his jeans on the floor and pulled out his cellphone. He sent a quick text to Maddie to check in, but he didn't mention that he was suffering from the same ailment she was. Deacon knew she would feel guilty for giving him the chicken pox. Then he found Megan's name on his contacts and hit send. He let out a frustrated huff when four rings passed and her voice mail message came on. He turned off the lights in his room and pulled back the comforter. He was tired and the lotion had dried to his skin, providing some comfort. Deacon was almost asleep when he noticed a shadow underneath the door. Deacon didn't call out to Rayna to reassure her that he was okay. Instead, he closed his eyes and hoped sleep would come fast.

**2 Hours Later  
**

Rayna put a blanket around her arms and walked outside onto the same balcony she'd been at the night before. Deacon's room had been dark and quiet for almost two hours. It was late and she was exhausted, but she couldn't make herself lay down, so she was out here, a lighter in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

She and Luke had talked briefly on the phone. He was annoyed that she was staying behind with Deacon. Right now, she was pretty damn annoyed that she was staying behind too. According to Teddy's latest email, Maddie was still itching but was getting her energy back. Her temperature was steady at 98.9 according to Teddy's 4:00 am update. It was such a relief that her child was getting better.

Looking up into the sky, Rayna noticed that the stars didn't seem as bright as they had appeared last night. The wind seemed crisp and howled through the buildings of downtown. Last night, this had felt so peaceful. But tonight being out here was different.

She puffed out smoke and rolled her eyes. Even the damn cigarette wasn't as comforting as it had been yesterday. It was always odd how one day, something made you happy or comforted you. The next day, it wasn't enough anymore. Rayna thought briefly that could be a good song idea. The thought was gone just as fast as she put out the cigarette and walked back inside.

Rayna sat down on the living couch and pulled the blanket over her feet. She sunk into the couch and was almost asleep when she heard noise coming from Deacon's room.

**90 Minutes Later**

"Quit scratching," Rayna demanded. She rolled her eyes as Deacon continued to move his nails back and forth over his leg. She warned him for the last hour to stop scratching and he hadn't listened to her. Determined, Rayna walked into the kitchen and returned a moment later. Deacon raised an eyebrow when he saw two oven mitts in her hand. They were golden with the hotel emblem sewn into the middle. He also saw how tense Rayna's body language was and sighed. Deacon knew he was in trouble.

After Rayna threw the mitts on the glass coffee table, she found her pocket book and began rifling through it. She threw her checkbook, tampons, and a couple of random papers out in her quest. Deacon noticed a pack of Marlboro Lights on the floor beside her and raised an eyebrow. Rayna hadn't smoked in years, maybe even decades at this point.

When they were young, she often stole a smoke from someone at a bar or backstage. She rarely bought her own packs. Deacon hated when she smoked but she insisted it helped her relax. By the time they were in their mid-twenties, Ray only smoked when Deacon fell off the wagon. He would stumble back from the Super 8 on Cason Road or drive home from some bar. Rayna would be waiting up, furious at him and in his drunken stupor he'd try to romance her. A lot of times, he could charm his way back into her good graces. However, when Rayna was really pissed, he'd smell smoke the second he walked through the front door. The odor would cling to her skin and hair when he would try to kiss her. It was those nights that he knew he was staying on the couch.

His thoughts were interrupted by a triumphant Rayna holding up a circle with a hole in the middle. Deacon didn't know what the object was but he knew he wasn't going to like it. His eyes shot back down the oven mitts on the coffee table and back to the object in Rayna's hands. In a sing song voice Rayna told him it was tape.

Deacon rolled his eyes and groaned as another severe burn came from his hip. He scratched again and realized what Rayna's intentions were. With a hand on her hip and another holding the tape she ordered Deacon to hold out his hands.

"There is no way in hell you are taping my hands up with damn mitts".

**25 Minutes Later**

Deacon groaned as he tried again to bite the tape off that was looped around his wrist. It held the cloth material of the mitt squarely to his wrist. Deacon lowered his mouth again, searching for another angle but once again the exposed side of the tape caught his beard.

He jerked back, loudly cussing and breathing hard. "What in the hell did you do to this tape?"

His eyes met Rayna's who was trying not to burst out laughing. There were several patches of hair missing from Deacon's beard and his entire face was flushed with exhaustion and anger. For the last twenty minutes, he'd been determined to get the oven mitts off of him but so far neither mitt budged.

Rayna smirked. "It's some super-duper double sided tape. It stays sticky for 24 hours unless you use the solvent," she said.

Annoyed, Deacon asked where the solvent was as his hands flew around, questioning its location.

Rayna looked at his hands, which looked like large pinchers and how red his face and arms were. She finally let out a loud bark of laughter. Her body folded up in the large arm chair she was sitting in as she tried to get the words out. "You look like a lobster!" Rayna breathed out before cackling again. Tears flowed down her face as she continued to laugh. Every movement and hand gesture Deacon made only seemed to make Rayna laugh harder until eventually he gave up and sat down on the couch. After a few more minutes of laughing and wiping tears from her eyes, Rayna calmed down. Deacon's face had become pale again and he seemed to be moving his body oddly up and down the couch. Rayna groaned, truly getting annoyed at the fact that Deacon was using the couch as some kind of scratching post.

Deacon sat up straighter and looked as serious as he could considering his hands were bound. "When'd you start smoking again?" he asked, anxious to change the subjects from his stupid hands and scratching. He watched as Rayna's smile faded into a straight line. She shrugged for a moment and then told him the truth she was willing to share.

"A while ago."

Deacon nodded slowly, seeming to understand how little she wanted to talk about it. The two fell into an odd conversation about her label and his new contract. They stayed vague on details, sharing information they'd tell anybody off the street. Slowly, the conversation flowed into one of longer sentences and deeper truths. Deacon admitted his contract seemed to stifle his creative juices. She looked up at the ceiling when she recounted the various issues she was facing with her label.

Eventually, Deacon yawned. With his gloved hands, he stumbled into the guest room. He tried not to cuss when he realized the only way to pull the comforter up around him was to use his teeth. For her part, Rayna looked at the floor sadly before heading back to the master suite.

**5 Hours Later**

Deacon stumbled into the living room feeling like an idiot. It had taken him at least ten minutes to pee with the damn mitts and in the process he'd ripped more hair off of his beard and now his boxers were bunched up his ass.

After several unsuccessful moments of trying to use the remote control in the living room, he ended up biting the power button to get it on. Unfortunately, the channel buttons were so small that his teeth couldn't get a grip on them. The television was stuck on an infomercial about a two hundred dollar fruit juicer. Deacon assumed he still have a fever when he starting thinking the kiwi-celery smoothie sounded good.

He was cold but felt warm. His skin felt dry but he was sweating. Every part of his body was on fire and all he could do was rub himself against the fabric of the couch. Deacon tried to focus on the sun peaking over the city buildings. He guessed it was close to seven, local time. He assumed Rayna was still asleep.

Slowly, Deacon walked around the living room, seeing the mess of papers and items scattered on the floor from earlier. Since he had no hands to use, he balanced himself on one foot. With the other, he used his toes to grasp a white sheet of paper. Deacon placed the piece of paper on the coffee table and leaned down to further inspect the document. It was a receipt from some store in Albuquerque where she spent way too much money on whatever the hell an 'endless neck scarf' was. He repeated the process with another paper. It was another receipt; this one was from some ice cream place in Nashville, the one the girls loved so much from a few weeks prior. The last was a crumpled piece of paper. It had Rayna's handwriting all over it. There were scribbles and phrases connected by arrows and lines. Words like 'regret' 'apologies' were splattered throughout phrases about 'lying to yourself' and 'saving ourselves.' His mind flashed to nearly a dozen different points in the last twenty years where he could have written the same lyrics. He could hear a group of chords repeating in his head as he started to piece together her phrases.

He hummed it a few more times but knew he couldn't write or play while his hands were still in the damn oven mitts. He didn't want to wake Rayna up but he couldn't afford to lose the chords in his head. He hummed then again and headed down the hallway, determined he was going to get these damn mitts off of him.

**20 Minutes Later**

"I'm sorry you forgot the chords. I was just trying to keep you from scratching!" insisted Rayna, her voice higher pitched than usual. Deacon could tell she was upset. But despite her best attempts to apologize, Deacon wasn't giving in.

Instead, Deacon tightened his jaw and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a damn grown man Rayna, I can take care of myself."

"I was trying to help," Rayna said quietly, a small crack in her voice.

"Like always, you thought you knew what was best for me."

Rayna tried not to let Deacon's biting sarcasm affect her. He was incredibly uncomfortable and had no one else to let out his frustration on. Rayna had taken the oven mitts off over an hour ago. Time hadn't calmed him, and if anything, he was getting angrier. Deacon still couldn't replicate the melody he'd created while his hands were taped up and he blamed Rayna for it.

Deacon scratched his back again and Rayna rolled her eyes. He was doing it as much to piss her off as he was to seek physical relief. She watched as Deacon kept his eyes on the guitar, unwilling to look at her. They both knew the conversation had less to do with the last twelve hours and more to do with the last twelve years.

Eventually Rayna sighed and walked away quietly, not in the mood to cry in front of an audience. Deacon stayed where he was, sitting on the floor and tightening the strings of his guitar. He gripped the neck tight to stop himself from running after her.

Truth was, Deacon was pushing her to have a conversation that he really didn't think either one of them were ready to have. He damn well knew why Maddie's last name was Conrad. Teddy was solid and stable at a time when Deacon couldn't guarantee he'd live til the end of the day. He'd been involuntarily committed, sent to rehab five times, plead to Driving under the Influence twice, and nearly ruined Rayna's first arena tour. He'd thrown up on her dress at a CMA after party, hid liquor in pockets of the coat she bought him for Christmas, and lied to her so many times he lost count. He felt ill-prepared to be a father to Maddie now. Back then, it would have been a disaster, much like his own childhood. He knew all of that, but still he was being a prick to her.

He began strumming a song that was so familiar he didn't even need to think about his hand placement. It was like breathing. Towards the end of the song, he could feel Rayna's presence. He could feel her standing beside him and allowed the last few chords of "End of the Day" to float through the air.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking at Deacon as he looked back at his guitar. Deacon knew Rayna's apology was about so much more than oven mitts. He loosened the same guitar string he'd just tightened.

He shrugged. "It wasn't that good of a melody either way."

Rayna smiled, knowing he was just trying to make her feel better. For a few moments, the two sat in relative silence on the carpeted floor, as Deacon strummed his guitar.

"What was the song about?" asked Rayna.

Deacon smiled and admitted he found her scribbled piece of paper with her notes. She nodded slowly, blushing at the truths he had read. They sat in relative silence, looking into each other's eyes. Then Rayna admitted she'd been smoking outside when a better idea hit her.

"A song about smelling bad?"

Rayna plucked a pillow from the couch behind her and threw it at his head. He ducked out of the way and laughed. Curious, he asked her what the song was about.

"I'm not 100% sure, but just the idea that one day you feel happy with where life is," Rayna played with a strand of hair that had fallen out of the side ponytail she'd put her hair in. "Then the next day, it hits you like a hammer that you aren't happy, you are somewhere between comfortable and numb." Rayna looked towards the bay of windows, determined to not cry.

Deacon let her words sink in for a moment and closed his eyes, allowing a small smile to cross his lips. They were always so damn in sync about things. Rayna's stomach growled loudly and Deacon laughed then groaned as his back started burning again. Rayna raised an eyebrow, "How about I call down for room service then we re-apply?"

Deacon nodded slowly as Rayna pushed herself in a standing position. Rayna ordered French toast, waffles, several bowls of fruit, bacon, and sausage. She asked for orange juice and coffee. Then quickly, she ordered Deacon to sit down as she found another bottle to start applying the lotion again.

**80 Minutes Later**

Rayna squealed as Deacon finished the last chord. The song was good, damn good. It was sultry and sexy, with drawn out lyrics. Their words tumbled over each other's as they finished each other's sentences. It was a song about being addicted to a relationship and enjoying the magnetism. Their lyrics had been born out of Deacon asking her again about smoking.

Her response had been simple but true. "Maybe I needed a new addiction."

Deacon had simply nodded adding that in AA, "They do talk a lot about substituting one addiction for another." Forty-five minutes later, the song was finished and both felt a sense of accomplishment.

Rayna walked over to the coffee table and dug into the food. Deacon was slow to put up his guitar because his skin was stiff with layers of dried lotion.

Deacon's phone rang and he smiled, seeing it was Maddie. He slid the answer button and greeted his daughter with a, "Hey Darlin." Rayna smiled as she ate, listening to Deacon's half of the conversation. She watched as Deacon lit up when Maddie talked. The conversation lasted about five minutes as Deacon danced around where he was and why he didn't call her the day before.

Deacon hung up the phone and noticed an odd look in Rayna's eye. Her body was tense she was chewing on her bottom lip. He said her name twice before he actually got her attention. Rayna shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. Deacon gave her a moment before asking what was wrong.

"Nothing," she insisted, even though her voice was a tad too high pitched to be telling the truth. Deacon repeated her name again, almost in a warning.

Rayna sighed, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I just really like hearing you and Maddie talk."

He grinned, his dimples deep with pride. His smile grew dim when he realized Rayna wasn't done with her thought.

"It makes me incredibly sad to think that both of you are just now getting to know each other as a parent and child." Rayna sighed, looking up at the ceiling and then on the floor. "But at the same time, it kind of reassures me that I did the right thing when Maddie was born."

Deacon sat on the floor for a minute, noticing the red spots on his feet were no longer bright red. The truth was even when Deacon was in the bar debating whether to take that first drink, all he could think about was how Rayna had willingly chosen Teddy as her husband and father of her children. It had been easier for Deacon to tell himself that Teddy knocked up Rayna and that was why she married him. If not for the baby, Rayna would have eventually taken him back. It had never occurred to him that she'd pick anybody else over him.

Only after the wreck, Deacon realized that he'd never fully gained back the trust he'd lost with Rayna. He had been her band leader, the one she turned to for advice about her career, and most importantly her friend. But she didn't trust him. And in the end, Deacon knew that was squarely on his shoulders and nobody else's. Rayna watched as Deacon he was in thought. Eventually, Deacon met her gaze and the two just stared at each other.

"Is Maddie why you started pulling away at the Edgehill party?"

Rayna nodded and whispered, "Yeah." He gave her a moment, waiting for her to elaborate. "That night, Maddie had this school dance, it was one of those father-daughter things." She watched as Deacon's jaw tightened but continued. "Teddy and I were talking while Maddie was getting ready and I told him that you and I were back together."

"Bet he took that real well."

Rayna shook her head, "Maddie was still very angry about the affair and that made Teddy feel even more vulnerable about his position in Maddie's life. Teddy said that he knew me and knew I could never be in a relationship with you and not tell you the truth. Teddy told me that that I needed to end my relationship with you."

Deacon nodded. "Which explains why you were so stand-offish later." Rayna nodded slowly. Deacon let out a puff of air. "And then I told you that whatever you were hiding, it didn't matter."

"What you said in the limo, it just felt like it was enough that you knew there was something I couldn't tell you, even if you didn't know what it was."

The air in the room seemed thicker when Deacon asked, "Were you ever going to tell me?"

Rayna thought for a moment about lying, pretending she had some grand plan of how this would all come out. She thought about a simple 'I don't know.' He'd believe her as long as she didn't look him in the eye when she said it.

"No," Rayna said truthfully. "I thought about telling Maddie when she was an adult. You know when she had her own kids and maybe was at a place in her life where she would understand. But no, I didn't think about telling you."

Deacon's voice cracked when he asked her why.

"Because I knew that you'd blame yourself for me choosing Teddy over you. You would be forced to think about a lot of painful memories. I thought you would have this fantasy of the three of us, living at the cabin writing songs and going on tours."

Truth be told, he still had that dream.

"But Deacon, that wasn't possible back then. You were so sick and nothing worked. Every time there was a knock at the door, I knew it was the police telling me you were dead. I would literally hold my breath when the phone rang. I couldn't reach you anymore and it killed me." Deacon looked down at the floor, unable to look at her. "You blamed yourself for everything. You blamed yourself for Vince's death and your mama's beatings. You would mess up on one chord and trash my dressing room. It felt like every other night, you were in a bar fight. Each relapse was worse than the time before. Then the pills started."

Deacon furrowed his brow, remembering bits and pieces of his outbursts.

"I wanted her to have two parents and the truth was back then, I didn't think you'd make it to her first birthday."

Deacon's head shot up as he met Rayna's gaze.

"I knew what it was like to lose a parent and I didn't want that for her."

Deacon felt his own eyes fill with tears. Knowing she was right didn't make his heart hurt any less. Deacon wiped his eyes as Rayna wiped away her own tears.

She straightened her back and continued. "I didn't want the only memories of her dead father to be of him breaking plates and being gone all hours of the night. I…"

Deacon interrupted her and said he had always understood why she kept the truth from him when Maddie was born. "But why not tell me at all? I mean, damn, Ray. I was sober for thirteen years."

"My biggest regret is that I hurt both of you by not telling you." Rayna stuck out her tongue and wet her lips, realizing how nervous she was. "It's just…there was never a scenario in my head where telling you led to anything good."

Deacon listened and swallowed harshly. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Guess you were right. I was drunk within an hour of leaving the CMAs and then I bought killed us both."

Rayna shook her head. "No, I was wrong. You were strong enough to know the truth and so was Maddie." Deacon looked at her for a moment, watching her cry softly. "If I would have told you the truth, if it had come from me years ago, maybe things would have been different."

Deacon listened, appreciative of the apology. He had missed years with his daughter that he could never get back; but at the same time, he still had years to get to know Maddie better.

Deacon and Rayna slowly smiled at each other, glad that all the unspoken assumptions between the two of them were out in the open. Rayna stood up slowly and looked at her watch.

"It's about time we put more lotion on you."

Deacon stood up too and held out his foot before rolling up the leg of his jeans. "Look at my leg," Deacon said showing lighter colored bumps on his foot and leg.

Rayna smiled at him widely, her eyes searching his. "It looks like its healing."

Deacon looked deep into her eyes. "Yeah," he said. "It is."


End file.
